Oh, hello--welcome, welcome! Emily, all of the other kids are down in the basement, why don't you join them? We've got plenty of toys down there. Go play, go play!

I tug at my mother's blouse and whisper in her ear:

Mom, I don't wanna go, they don't like me. I don't know how to play with them.

That's okay, honey--just sit here with your father and I.

It was far easier to sit quietly and nibble at hors d'oeuvres than it was to get some seven-year-old to like me. Brenda, you just have to try this brie, it's soo decadent--ooh, yes, try it with one of the rosemary crackers. Right? Isn't it simply heavenly? Of course, I can feel my hips growing as we speak but it is so worth it. Oh, how rude am I-Emily, dear, would you like to try some?

Brie was never very appealing to me, maybe because I was six. That said, I still preferred its fungal tang to the prospect of playing Nintendo with other children, so I ate it. The adults were impressed, my parents were proud.